Meet The Noirs
by SisiDraig - 2
Summary: SEQUEL to WTPCIASW! Vince's parents come to stay. Includes horrible parents, crude t-shirt slogans and Richmond saves the day...
1. Chapter 1

**D/C: NO, i don't own this. Well ... i guess i own bits and pieces of it but anything Genius belongs to Mr Barratt & Mrs Fielding (who i swear is becoming more of a woman everytime i see him!! - I still love him!! lol.)**

**A/N: Okay, so i've updated and posted all over the place today. It's not my fault, it's because time to kill makes me write fanfic!! I've been hinting at the nightmare Noir's for a while so I thought i'd see what they were like.**

**This fic is dedicated to all those who are still reading the WTPCIASW sequels!! I love you all! (Especially, you!) xx**

* * *

"Your parents rang."

"Don't even joke."

"It's not a joke. They rang, they asked where you were."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them you were out."

"Good."

"Buuuut…"

"Oh no, don't say but."

"I said you'd ring them back."

"Howard!"

"What?"

"Why did you tell them that?"

"Because you haven't spoke to them for years."

"And that's the way I like it to be."

"Vince," Howard said warningly.

"Can we talk about this later? I'm telling the boys a story."

"Fine," Howard agreed, going to the kitchen area of the living room to start washing up the mountain of dishes, "but don't think I'm going to forget."

"Alright," groaned Vince, lifting Richmond up from the floor and settling the boy on his lap. "Right, which story do we want?"

"The time you and Jahooli went to the water hole and had to fight off the evil snake Caniloo.

"Jones!" groaned Vinward, "We hear-d that one yesterday."

"But it's sa best one," grumbled Jones, rubbing nose with his palm, his bottom lip wobbling a little.

"Jones, don't cause a fuss," warned Vince, stroking his hair with his hand. "We heard that one yesterday, I think we should let Vin or Richie choose one today."

"Richmond," the boy corrected him, "and I don't really mind which story we listen to."

"What about the one where Daddy Howard got kidnapped by the underwater merman-thingy and you had to rescue him?" Jones suggested.

"No," sighed Vinward, "I wanna hear one where Daddy Howard had to rescue you daddy."

"One where Daddy Howard had to rescue me," Vince said thoughtfully. He racked his brain for a moment or two but he couldn't think of one example where Howard had rescued him. "I can't think of a time," he said eventually.

"Excuse you sir," Howard called from the kitchen, "I saved your life."

"Did you?"

"Yes, you'd be dead if it wasn't for me. I got right inside you and saved your life."

"Yeah, that's a great story every night Howard but it's not really for kids."

Howard frowned for a second trying to figure out what the hell Vince was on about. As it slowly dawned on him his brow furrowed more. Of course Vince would drag any conversation to the gutter if he could.

"Not that!" He snapped. "Spirit of jazz. You and your bully, punk friends strolled in here and messed with stationary village, then you _ate _my precious jazz record. D'you remember that? It was the only thing I'd cared about for years and _you _broke it."

"Alright, alright." Vince squirmed uncomfortably on the sofa. "I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

"And I've forgiven you," Howard said in a way that suggested he really hadn't.

"So you keep saying," huffed the younger man. "Fine, I'll tell the story of how Daddy saved my life."

--

Of course Howard had to keep leaping into the story, twisting the facts to make him sound even more heroic.

"Howard, stop it," Vince moaned, after Howard had told the boys he hadn't hesitated to rescue Vince.

"They shrunk me down like a fierce, warrior borrower, sir."

"Really Howard?" scorned Vince, "because Naboo seemed to be under the impression you'd been happy to let me die until that old gimmer Lester told you, you were old. Then it was all _Howard Moon is not old. He has forty years of powerful sexual dynamism sir," _Vince said in his best Howard impression.

"And was I wrong?" Howard asked daringly.

Vince just blushed, coughed a little and said, "that's not the point. Get away from my story. You're like tipex, constantly trying to correct things. But everyone knows tipex just makes writing look ugly."

"What do you know of writing, sir?"

"Enough. Now shut up. I'm telling a story."

It took Vince twice as long to tell this story as usual. However much Vince told him, Howard could not leave it alone. He kept popping up saying things like, "have you told them the bit where I bravely entered your blood stream with nothing but a sandwich?"

"Yes," Vince sighed.

"That was your fault daddy," Jones piped up, "you should have checked the harp-ooooon," he said carefully, "was in the lunchbox before you left."

"It wasn't a lunchbox Jonesy," Howard tried to explain, "it was a …" he paused because he wasn't actually sure what it was. He settled for a "harpoon case."

"Well, you always make us check our lunchboxes before we go to school," Richmond agreed.

"Well that's because sometimes an electro-buffoon packs your boxes and we never know what he might put in there."

"What's an electro-buffoon?" Vinward questioned.

"I think it's supposed to be me," Vince said, glaring at Howard.

"Oh, I _love _it, when daddy Vince packs our lunchboxes," beamed Jones. "We always get a toy in it."

"That's because he just buys happy meals from McDonalds," Howard sighed, drying the final dish and coming to sit on the sofa.

"Yeah, well I didn't realise that people actually packed their children lunch for school," Vince said bitterly, glaring a little at Howard. "I didn't have a very good childhood."

There was a silence for a second and the two men stared at each other. Finally, Howard broke. He always broke first.

"Finish the story," he sighed, "we'll discuss your parent afterwards."

--

Vince ran his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking out at all angles like some kind of eighties pop-rocker. He was sat on the sofa staring at the telephone as though it might jump up at any second and get him. The boys were in bed. They weren't sleeping. That much was obvious from the banging and crashing coming from their room. There'd been a time when Howard or Vince would storm into the bedroom to tell them to be quiet. But whenever they walked in, the three boys would be curled up in their beds suckling on their thumbs. Of course as soon as the door closed, the noise would start again so now they just left them to it.

"Make the call," Howard sighed, sitting next to Vince and squeezing his knee encouragingly.

"I don't want to talk to them," Vince said, squirming agitatedly on the spot.

"Look, I know they're not your favourite people but…"

"They left me to die in a forest," scowled Vince."I know but…"

"Stop saying but," Vince snapped, pushing the phone forcefully away from him. "You shouldn't have told them I'd ring them back."

"They probably just want to see their grandchildren."

"What? So they can leave them in a forest too?"

Howard sighed and wrapped his arm around Vince's shoulders. He never knew what to do for the best when it came to Vince's parents. Part of him wanted to keep Vince well away from them but another part felt he should at least try to help build bridges. His memories of the Noirs are always quite foggy. It's was usually a brief encounter and Vince hardly let any conversation happen. It's just a quick hello in the street, in the way you might with someone you met once in a café.

"Why don't you just phone them and hear what they have to say?"

--

Vince did phone them and even as Howard watched the conversation unfold he could see Vince getting angrier and angrier. He wasn't saying much, just listening to what his parents were telling him. Howard just twiddled with the button on his cardigan.

"What d'you mean by that?" Vince demanded to the phone. Howard jumped a little at the sudden outburst and looked up at his partner, who was now on his feet. "You can't do that!" he yelled.

"Vince, shhhh," Howard hushed, "the boys are asleep."

Vince just flapped his hand at Howard as though he were some kind of irritating fly and continued to shout.

"You CAN'T do that!" he bellowed.

"Daaaaaaaddyyyyyyyyyy!" came the inevitable shout from down the hall. Howard sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

By the time Howard got back to the living room, Vince was looking like a crazy man. He was perched on the sofa, elbows on his knees and head in hands. The phone was the other side of the room, lying broken on the floor. Howard just stared at it for a moment and then looked at Vince.

"Sorry," the younger man said nothing because there was really nothing to say. He just sat next to Vince and put his arm around his shoulder. Vince's head found it's way to Howard's chest and he buried himself into the angry muffin roll neck. They just sat there for a second in silence.

"They're coming," Vince mumbled after a while.

"Huh?"

"My parents," Vince explained, pushing himself away from Howard a bit so he could look at him properly. "They're coming to stay."

"What? When?"

"Tomorrow."

"What?" Howard repeated. He was completely dumbstruck, he felt almost as though Vince was speaking a foreign language. It was like he could hear words but he couldn't make out what was being said.

"I told them not to," Vince said. He sounded strange, as though he was trying desperately not to cry.

"Oh, I'm sure they're not that bad, Vince."

"But they're so…" Vince trailed off. He couldn't find a word to sum up all of the things his parents were. "You'll see," he said eventually.

Howard suggested they have a Colobus The Crab marathon that evening, to try and cheer Vince up. But not even Colobus could raise a smile on the electro-poof's face.

--

"Don't leave me alone!" Vince hissed in Howard's ear as he bundled to boys out of the front door.

"Don't be so melodramatic," Howard chuckled, "Jones, where's your scarf?"

"Erm…." The little boy looked all around him and then accusingly at Vinward, who held up his hands in surrender.

"I think it's on the chair Jonesy," Vince said, "run up and get it." And in Howard's ear, he added, "I'm not being melodramatic."

"No of course you're not," Howard smiled, kissing Vince on the cheek as Jones came running back down the stairs, his podgy legs carrying him much quicker than anyone would ever expect. He didn't even stop at the door. In fact, he didn't stop until he was bouncing in his car seat, calling everyone to hurry up.

"You're in a rush," Howard commented.

"It's coz he wants to see Daaaa-aaaan," sang Vinward.

"No!" Jones shouted a little too loudly, "I just want to be in school on time."

Every member of the family looked at the boy in disbelief. Never before had Jones shown any interest in school or work but now he looked like nothing made him happier.

"You wouldn't want to be on time if you didn't see Dan, though. I swear you love him," chuckled Vinward. "You just follow him everywhere."

"I do not," protested Jones. "I just…." But Vince never heard what Jones just because Howard shut the car door on the conversation.

"Come here," he said, pulling Vince close so he could kiss him on the cheek. "Good luck. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"If you're sure it'll be fine, why are you wishing me luck?"

"It just seemed like the right thing to do."

"I doubt they'll be here until you get back anyway," Vince said, "they're never on time."

"Sounds like someone I know."

"Yeah, but they always come up with crap reasons."

"What, like, a frog stole my shoes?" Howard asked pointedly.

"But that actually happened!" whined Vince.

"Oh yeah," Howard nodded, "I know it did. You also had your hair tangled up by woodlouses and spent all morning inventing the frying pan before you realised it already existed, right?"

"It's all true," Vince insisted, though he did at least have the decency to look just a little sheepish. "You better go anyway, there's a fight breaking out."

Howard turned around to see Vinward tugging furiously on Jones' hair whilst Jones punched his brother wildly in response. Richmond just rolled his eyes, like an exasperated parent.


	2. Chapter 2

Vince twiddled his thumbs nervously. His legs were jiggling of their own accord and he was watching the clock ticking slowly by. It was half-past nine. His parents should be here at any moment and he felt like he'd never been so scared in his life. His stomach was churning furiously and he was shaking a little. The time just dragged on forever. One minute took sixty faint clicks of the clock and each of those clicks was agonisingly long.

The doorbell rang. Vince leapt to his feet immediately and just stared at the stairs that led to the front door. He didn't want to let his parents in. Maybe he could just hide behind the sofa forever.

"Vincent," the shrill tones of his mother drifted up the stairs. Vince shuddered but he knew now he couldn't leave them outside. They were his parents after all.

"Vincent! Let us in darling!"

"Darling?" He muttered, stomping down the stairs like a moody teenager. As he neared the door, he heard his father's cockney baritone.

"'E's clearly not 'ere, love. Let's go."

"Oh but I'd love to see him, it's been so long."

"Ye' so you're always sayin'. Not sure why if I'm honest with ya. 'E's ne'er done anyfin' new wi' his life. 'E still reckons 'e's gonna be a bleedin' rock star."

"Alright Dad," Vince said, opening the door. "Mum." He didn't look at his parents. He didn't want to see their fake sorry faces. He didn't wanted to hear their lying apologies. He just stepped aside and let them into his house. He heard his mum telling his dad to behave himself. He thought he heard the thud of her slapping him on his thickly, layered arm but he wasn't bothered. He just wanted Howard back, so he could cower behind him. This was the second time Vince Noir needed Howard Moon to save him.

--

He'd made them both a cup of tea, which judging by the look on his dad's face was clearly inadequate. He took their coats and hung them on the pegs. He put their bags in Naboo's room. The Shaman had said they could have it whilst he was on Shaman holiday. Though as Vince pointed out, when is a shaman not on holiday. But it didn't matter anyway. Nothing Vince could do for them, made his dad even utter a thank you.

The truth was, Barry Noir was a man's man. He did man's things like drink pints and do DIY and watch football.

"Spurs won again on the week'nd son, d'you watch the game?"

"No dad," Vince sighed, "I haven't watched a football game since you took me to White Heart Lane when I was about eight and that fat bloke ripped my favourite jacket."

"That fat bloke was your Uncle and tha' jacket was a bird's jacket."

"It wasn't. It was from Topshop for kids. Mum you got it for me, didn't you?"

"Yes, it was a lovely jacket Barry," Mrs Moon scolded, taking a sip of her tea. "This is lovely tea, Vincent."

"Thanks."

"And I love the design of the apartment, did you do it yourself?"

"Yeah, most of it. Well, that's Howard's design," he explained, gesturing to the corner of the room, which housed stationary village and globe town.

"Still livin' wi' tha' norvern lad 'en?" His dad cut in.

"Howard, yeah. And…"

"Not married, not gorra bird yet," Mr Noir continued.

"Leave him alone," Mrs Noir scolded. "He's got plenty of time for all that."

"'E's firty-six!"

"I'm thirty-two," Vince corrected quickly. "In fact, outside this room, I'm twenty-eight, yeah?"

"Ya don' look twen'y-eight. Not even a blind man would fink you were twen'y-eight. S'time you grow up and start actin' your age in my opinion. 'Ave you even gorra job?"

"No."

"A mortgage?"

"No."

"A girlfriend?"

"No, look about tha-"

"See Meryl. Still ain' done nofin' wi' 'is time."

"I've got kids!" Vince suddenly blurted out. He wasn't entirely sure why he did it. He'd planned it all in his head earlier. He'd decided he'd make the announcement calmly. He'd explain that he and Howard were a couple and then he'd casually slip in the fact they had children later. Or he'd mention it at lunch in a public place. Or drop subtle hints. Either way, he certainly hadn't planned to shout it in their faces over a cup tea. At least it shut his dad up for about thirty seconds and then;

"KIDS! YOU? HOW!?"

"It's a long story."

"Gi' me the short version," snapped Mr Noir.

"Erm, there was potion…" Vince watched his dad's eyebrow quirk. He knew already his dad didn't believe him but he had to continue with the story. He explained all about the orange juice mix up. He explained about the morning sickness. He told them about the French doctors and the nine hellish months of pregnancy. He told them about the birth, kind of, and he told them about his sons.

"Ya expect me to believe tha'?" Mr Moon asked angrily.

"It's the truth," Vince promised.

"So you've go' free sons wi' a man you ain' even slept wi'."

"Ah," Vince said, blushing furiously. "About that…."

"You 'ave…." Mr Moon started and then stopped, realising quickly that that was a sentence he really didn't want to finish.

"Look, I … I mean Howard. I mean, me and Howard…."

"You're a couple," his mother finished for him. "Of course you are."

"What?" Vince asked in disbelief.

"Well, to be honest with you, I think I'd decided that if you and him weren't getting it on…"

"MUM!"

"…by now I was going to force you."

"Meryl, there's no call for tha'" Mr Noir said. And for once, Vince really had to agree with his dad.

Of course, it was this moment, when they were all completely unable to think of anything but Vince's sex life, that Howard would walk in. He'd only said hello, when Mr Noir jumped to his feet and announced he needed to 'take a piss'.

"How charming?" scorned Howard, once Mr Noir had shut the door behind him.

"That's my dad for you, how were the boys?"

"Fine. Are you going to introduce me to your mum?"

"Mum, Howard, Howard, my mum Meryl."

"Well Vince, you've shagged uglier men," Mrs Noir said resignedly, planting a red lipsticky kiss on Howard's cheek.

"Erm, thanks," Howard said, as Vince tried desperately to disappear. Maybe if he thought hard enough he'd be able to remember some spell of Naboo's or maybe there was some kind of potion he could take.

"So I was thinking," Howard said, "maybe we could go out for tea tonight, you know you two, us and the boys."

"That's sounds like a lovely idea," Mrs Noir agreed.

"Yeah, Howard," Vince tugged on the older man's sleeve, "can I have a word a second?"

"Of course, excuse me," he apologised to Mrs Noir and allowed himself to be dragged down the corridor to their shared bedroom. Pushing past Mr Noir as he emerged from the toilet."Hello sir, Howard Moon I don't believe we've met," Howard said but Vince wasn't stopping so Howard couldn't hear Mr Noir's response, not that the indistinguishable mutterings sounded in any way positive.

Vince almost slammed the door behind him and glared at Howard.

"What?" The older man asked nervously.

"These are my _parents,_ Howard."

"And?"

"We don't invite them out. We keep them locked inside."

"Is this about your street cred?"

"No that disappeared when I started going out with you."

"Oh thanks," muttered Howard.

"Look, what I mean is … my parents, they have no concept of what's allowed in public. My mum'll probably try and shag a waiter or something and my dad'll just be the abusive wanker he always is."

"Okay, okay, calm down. Look, I just thought if we go out for a meal, with the boys too. It'll take the pressure of us a bit. We won't have to cook and clean and we don't have to have them in the house for as long and we can use the boys as an excuse to put a stop to anything we don't like."

"That is _quite _a good idea," Vince admitted."Of course it is. Howard Moon is like an idea wizard."

"Did you use the plan pony?" Vince asked knowingly.

"Shut up."

--

The morning was horrific. Mr Noir tried to talk to Howard about football, whilst he in turn tried to talk about Jazz. It was a never ending loop of Vince's most hated conversations battling out to see which was most boring. After a while he had to take himself away from it and talk to his mother. She, of course, only had one thing on her mind.

"So do you and Howard do it a lot? It must be tough with kids around? I know me and your father almost stopped completely when you were born. But you were a demanding baby. Bet you're still demanding now, yeah honey? I bet Howard can't keep up with you."

"Mum, please," Vince was almost begging her now.

"What? Can't a mother ask these things?"

"No."

"Look, you've kept me out of your life for years and years. You need to bring me up to speed. How many were there between that Kelly girl you dated and Howard?"

"Kelly?" Vince asked, completely confused. He didn't remember ever dating a Kelly. In fact he hadn't really committed to one person until Howard. He used to play the field, number the girls at a party and play it fast and free with as many as he could.

"Kelly Brown," his mum insisted and suddenly he remembered.

"Mum, she was a girl I built sandcastles with in nursery."

"Oh right, sandcastles," she winked, as though Vince had just let her in on some big secret code. "I understand. And how many people have you _built sandcastles _with?"

"Mum, what is wrong with you?"

"I just want to make sure you didn't settle for the first guy you went with. Some people do you know, out of some weird loyalty to the guy who showed them they were gay."

"He wasn't the first guy mum," Vince sighed.

"Okay. What about since you've been together?"

"What about it?"

"Well … have you slept with anyone else since you and Howard got together?"

"What!? NO!"

"Okay, okay. I was just asking."

"Well don't. It's none of your business. I love him and he loves me, that's all you need to know."

"I know, I know. And I love your father. All I'm saying is, a one night stand here and there helps keeps things … fresh, you know what I'm saying."

"No," Vince cried, leaping to his feet and mumbling some excuse about needing to be in the kitchen. Of course the kitchen is just a bar like area of the sitting room and he couldn't just stand there doing nothing; that would seem weird. So he just ducked behind it and sat on the floor for a while; much more normal.

Vince knew he couldn't stay hidden behind the counter forever. In fact he'd already been down there an implausibly long time but he didn't care. He'd wait a few more minutes and then he'd brave his parents again. He just needed a longer break.

"Yeah," he heard Howard's voice getting closer and saw his shoes come around the end of the bar. "I think he's lost the … erm, the er … the thingamabob. I'll just give him a hand."

Suddenly, Howard slumped to the ground next to him and banged his head softly on Vince's shoulder.

"Okay, I give up," he said sitting up straight. "They're a nightmare. I'm this close," he held up a minuscule measurement between thumb and forefinger, "to giving myself a Chinese burn."

Vince took Howard's hand gently in both of his and sighed.

"I'm sorry about them," he said, "but I did warn you."

"I know."

"Please don't give yourself a Chinese burn."

"I won't," sighed Howard. "Come on little man, lets get back out there and brave them."

Vince nodded and, still holding Howard's hand, he got to his feet.

"Did you find what you were looking for sweetheart?" Mrs Noir asked.

"Erm… no." Vince said. It was the truth after all. He'd been looking for some kind of underground escape route and there hadn't been one. They only ever seemed to pop up when Vince was rescuing Howard from some kind of monster. Not that they'd ever battled anything as horrific as the Noir's before. Vince didn't even want to think about what their meal evening meal would be like.

* * *

Vince and Howard had both gone to pick up the kids from school. Partly because they usually did this on a Friday but mainly because they both needed a break from the house.

"I swear your mum's coming on to me," Howard said as they circled the neighbourhood. They'd left the house twenty minutes earlier than Howard's usually unnecessarily early departure time and now they had a ridiculous about of time to kill.

"Probably," Vince sighed. "She's not exactly monogamous."

"Yeah, she, er, she mentioned that, when she was telling me about her, erm," he coughed a little, "encounters."

"Oh god," Vince leant forward and bashed his head dramatically on the dashboard. Suddenly, he was smacked in the face with a massive, white pillow-like balloon. "What the hell?" he spluttered, punching at the deployed air bag.

"You banged your head on the dashboard, what did you expect?"

"I didn't do it that hard," Vince protested.

"Super sensitive air bags," Howard announced proudly. "I had them fitted when I started taking the three boys and Lauren places. I don't want any young people getting hurt."

"What about suffocated?" Vince asked as he finally wrestled the super sized, super sensitive air bag into submission. "This thing's ridiculous."

"If I crash, that thing will save someone's life and then you will eat your mocking words, sir."

"Really? I hear mocking words taste sour, like sprouts."

"Sour? Sprouts? Have you ever tasted a sprout Vince?"

The younger man just grinned; "Not exactly," he admitted. "But you know me Howard, I'm not really a vegetable kinda man. I'm much more sweets and ice cream."

"Junk, fake food. It makes you fat and spotty."

"Really?" Vince scorned.

"Yes."

"So what do sprouts make you?"

"Healthy. And they keep you in great shape."

"Well, I'm not seeing much evidence of that," Vince said, allowing his eyes to wander up and down Howard's body a few times.

"What is that supposed to mean?" demanded the older man angrily.

"All I'm saying is that only one of us eats sprouts and that same one of us has man boobs."

"How dare you sir!"

"What?" Vince asked, putting on that angelic, innocent 'I've done something wrong but look how sweet I am' face, "I like my men to have a good pair of knockers."

"Really?" Howard asked, raising his eyebrow in a way Vince assumed was supposed to be seductive, "because, I could always get the er man corset down from the loft again."

Vince couldn't hold a straight face any longer. He burst into laughter and Howard threw the closest thing to hand (an old air freshener in the shape of a monkey head) right in his smug face.

"I hate you," he spat but the electro-poof could only stop laughing long enough to gasp out,

"It's not my fault, the boys call you jelly baby!"

Howard put on a very forced, very sarcastic laugh, "oh laugh now, you wait. I'll get you back, sir. I'll come at you like the come back kid. You won't know what's hit you. Ow. Chika, chika."

This seemed to finish Vince off and he laughed so hard, tears were streaming down his face.

But, as per usual, by the time the first of the boys came running out of school, they'd put the short spat behind them and had moved on.

"Where's Vin?" Vince asked Richmond, "and Jones? They're usually first out."

"Vin's saying goodbye to Lauren and Jones is saying goodbye to Dan," the little boy explained. "Jones was in a fight today."

"What?" Vince asked, his blood boiling at the thought of any child trying to hurt one of his sons.

"Yeah," Richmond nodded and started to explain all about Jones' everlasting battle with the boy named Nathan.

"It's okay though," he finished. "Jones won."

"That's not really the point," Howard said.

"Well, it is," Vince cut in aggressively.

"What I'm saying is, he shouldn't be fighting anyway."

Vince just shrugged his shoulders and screwed up his face a little as if to say 'meh' and Howard told him they'd discuss it some other time.

"You said that before. And look where we ended up. With my parents sat in our living room."

"You can't blame me for that. They're your DNA!"

"Have we got grandparents staying with us?" Richmond asked. "Oh, excellent. I've read about grandparents in books. They're either really nice and give you lots of sweets like Werther's Originals. Ooooor you can make a potion and turn them really big and then really small until they disappear."

"Is this a Roald Dahl book by any chance?"

"Mmm, yes. It's jolly good."

"Well, just remember that books aren't real, okay? It's not Richmond's marvellous medicine."

"No," Richmond agreed, staring off into the distance as he mumbled under his breath, "but it could be."


	3. Chapter 3

The car journey home was relatively painless. Even though Richmond quickly realised it was taking much longer than it should have, he didn't mention it until they drove past the Nabootique for the second time.

"Where are we going?" Richmond asked, peering out of the window, his hands splayed on the glass.

"Home," Howard answered.

"But we just went past…"

"Shhh," his dad snapped. He knew his other sons would only whinge if they found out they were just driving in a circle and at the moment they were just arguing over something menial.

"We're gonna have to stop eventually," Vince said, looking at Howard.

"I know," the older man sighed. "Okay, last time round."

Vince nodded, trying to prepare himself for his parents again.

--

"This is Vinward."

"He's got a moustache, Vincent," Mrs Noir gasped, looking at the boy in horror.

"Er … yeah. It's a northern thing apparently."

"It's a Moon thing," Howard corrected politely.

"It's a ridiculous fing," Mr Noir bellowed and of course Vinward's bottom lip started to wobble.

"Dad!" Vince growled lifting his son up and whispering reassurance in his ear. "Vinward's moustache is … er, fine."

"Fine?" Howard questioned in his ear.

"It's not my fault," Vince whispered back. "Moustaches aren't cool. I can't pretend they are."

Howard shook his head disapprovingly.

"What? I don't mind Vinward has one," Vince protested, "I just don't think they're cool."

Howard just continued to shake his head.

"Shut up," Vince scowled, passing Vinward to him and turning back to his parents. "This is Jones,"

"Hiya," Jones grinned, waving madly. Then, beaming proudly, he added, "I don't have a moustache like caterpillar lip."

Suddenly, Mr Noir was laughing like he'd never heard anything funnier in his life. "Caterpillar lip," he repeated. "Yes, that's _exactly _what it's like."

Vinward's eyes filled with tears and Howard turned away from Vince's dad, as though it would somehow protect his son.

"Don't listen to him," he soothed, as Vince told his dad to stop being so rude.

"All I'm sayin' is this little lad talks sense," Mr Noir protested, ruffling Jones hair. Then there was hair drama, which ended with Jones karate chopping Mr Noir in the knee. Mr Noir collapsed into the sofa like a footballer tackled in the penalty box. He rolled about in the cushions, moaning and groaning loudly about some make-believe arthritis and some non-existent knee problem.

"Jones apologise," Vince sighed.

"Sorry, Grandpa Noir," Jones said sulkily.

"Okay," Vince sighed, "you should probably go and get ready, we're going out for a meal in two hours."

"Two hours!" cried Jones, "how can I work under these conditions?" he asked, marching off towards his room.

"Is tha' it?" Mr Noir asked, "You're not gonna ground him?"

"He apologised."

"'Ardly."

"Dad, give it a break," scowled Vince, "I will raise my son how I want to."

"I noticed. Don' fink I didn' see the paint on his nails."

"He likes to where nail varnish," Vince shrugged.

"Tha's 'ow it started wiv ya. Next fing you were fuckin'men!"

"I _knew _that's what this was about!" Vince screamed, squaring up to his dad, "it's about the fact I like men as well as woman."

"It's not, we don't care about that," Mrs Noir insisted, touching her husband's shoulder to pull him away from the imminent fight. "Now," she said calmly, "what's your other son's name?"

"Richmond," Vince said quietly, putting his arm around the boys shoulders. "He's the smartest boy in his year," he said proudly."He's adorable," Mrs Noir cooed, straightening Richmond's uniform. The boy just narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"Excuse me," he said, "I have to go and read a book. Come on Vinward."

Vinward wiggled in Howard's arms until his dad put him on the floor. The two boys ran off to their bedroom.

--

Richmond shut the door behind him and looked up at his brothers. Jones was stood in front of the mirror, tongue poking out as he concentrated on straightening his hair carefully. Vinward was sat on his bed, looking around him for something to throw at Jones to make him lose concentration and put a kink in his hair.

"What do you think of our Grandparents?" Richmond asked slowly.

"I think they seem okay," Jones mumbled.

"But you don't think anyone's that bad," Vinward pointed out, putting his hand on a book. He grinned and threw it at Jones.

"OW! VINWARD!" Jones yelled. He put his straightners down carefully on the heat proof mat and then flew at his brother.

Richmond sat back as they battled it out. He waited patiently until Jones was straddling Vinward's back pulling at his moustache like reins of a horse, shouting,

"Giddy-up! Moustache Mule!" And finally calming down enough to say, "Do you surrender?"

"Ger'off me!"

"Surrender!"

"Never!"

"Fine," Jones tugged harder on the moustache mule.

"Ahhhhh!" Vinward cried, "fine. I surrender."

"Good," grinned Jones, letting go of the moustache and relaxing a little.

"Well?" Richmond asked after a moment or two.

"Well what?" Vinward asked, as Jones finally clambered off him and returned to his hair.

"What do you think of our grandparents?"

"I think they're evil," Vinward said bitterly. He went into his draw and produced a moustache comb. Jones laughed when he saw it but he soon shut up when he saw the look his brother gave him.

"Well, I've got an idea to make them … disappear," Richmond said evilly, strolling over to his bookshelf and pushing a book in front of his brothers.

"Ahh, reading!" cried Jones, turning away from it as though it were acid for his eyes.

"George's Mar-vel … Marveal … Marver." Vinward read slowly.

"Marvellous," Richmond helped.

"Yeah, that. Medi, er, Meda."

"Medicine," Richmond said. "George's Marvellous Medicine."

"What's it got to do with us?" Vinward asked.

Richmond just gave a sly smile and raised his eyebrows in a way that said, 'just wait and see'.

--

Everyone was fed-up of walking. They hadn't been able to take the car to the restaurant because there were too many of them but the restaurant was almost five miles away and the boys were moaning. Jones was on Howard's shoulders because he'd refused to walk any further about five minutes ago and had sat crossed leg on the pavement until Howard had picked him up and swung him onto his shoulders.

This had prompted Mr Noir to brand Jones a spoilt brat, which had led Vince to threaten to kick him out of the house. Not to his Dad's face, obviously. Just quietly to Howard when no one else could hear him. Vinward had been the next to hit the floor. He tripped over a drain, which sent Jones into a fit of giggles, and didn't bother getting up.

"Come on Vinny," chuckled Vince, lifting the boy to his feet.

"But my legs are achy," the boy protested.

"I know," sighed Vince, "I'll carry you for a bit, give those legs a rest."

Vince lifted his son up and rested him on his right arm. The boy was heavy and Vince wondered where all the time had gone since lifting Vinward was no more difficult than lifting a bunny rabbit.

Eventually, they got to the restaurant.

"This better be good," Mr Noir huffed, sitting heavily in his seat at the head of the table.

"I'm sure it'll be lovely," Mrs Noir said, fluttering her eyelashes at the boy who'd shown them to their table.

"Honestly," Vince muttered to Howard, "that waiter's probably still in school."

Howard just chuckled a little, calling the waiter over and asking for a cushion for Jones.

"I don't need a cushion," Jones moaned, sitting on the chair and disappearing so that only the very top of his hair was visible over the table edge. "See. I'm big like Vin and Richie."

"Richmond," the boy frowned. How many times did he have to repeat himself?

"I know you are," Howard reassured his smallest son. "But," he leant down to whisper in Jones' ear, "special Princes have cushions. You're brothers aren't special enough for one."

Suddenly, Jones was desperate to sit on the cushion.

The meal was … interesting, to say the least. Of course it had started off very civil and polite but the tension was obvious to all of them and as the mundane conversations about food and the weather started to die out, even the boys noticed it.

"When can we do the _thing_?" Vinward asked Richmond.

"What thing Vin?" Howard asked, desperate to keep some form of conversation going.

"Nothing," he replied and both boys went back to their starters.

"Er, is your food good Mrs Noir?" Howard tried again.

"Oh yes, it's lovely. And that waiter's very handsome, isn't he Vince?"

Vince looked at the boy serving him. He was alright, he supposed. Nothing special really, quite nice eyes if you liked green and a decent fashion sense. There was a time, Vince thought, when he might have taken him home. Vince was just about to say as much, when he heard a low cockney voice growl,

"Don' answer tha'."

"He seems a nice guy," Vince sighed, twiddling with his hair agitatedly. His hair was about the only thing Howard would say was truly Vince about his appearance tonight. He hadn't put on any eyeliner, his jeans seemed sensible, as did his converses and his jacket was just a boring black one. In fact, there was none of the usual glitter and colour Vince usually wore. Then he unzipped his jacket to reveal his t-shirt. Howard groaned when he saw it. It was bright orange and showed a man fishing with the words 'Life's Better With A Rod In Your Hand' emblazoned underneath it.

Howard practically threw his fork under the table, saying,

"Oh woops. Better go and get that. Vince, give me a hand."

Everyone on the table stared at him like he'd gone wrong.

"It's a fork Howard. Even you can lift a fork by yourself," Vince said slowly, as though he thought the older man had finally lost it for good.

"Just get down here!" Howard snapped, grabbing Vince's arm and dragging him under the table.

"What are you wearing?" he hissed.

"I thought it might wind my dad up," the younger man grinned.

"We're in a restaurant. A _nice _restaurant."

"Which is why I didn't wear the _other_ t-shirt Leroy bought me for my birthday."

Howard shuddered at the thought but just said, "you can't sit in here wearing that. You'll have to keep your jacket on." Then he picked up the fork and returned to the table announcing he'd found it.

Richmond looked puzzled by the whole thing. Especially, when Vince appeared to and said, "I don't," before removing his jacket.

--

There'd been a row. Of course there had. That had been the whole point of wearing the t-shirt. Howard knew that Vince had dragged that shirt from the darkest corner of his wardrobe to wear it today. Though he'd sat and patiently told his dad he wore t-shirts like this all time. Howard just sighed. If that were true, he'd probably seriously have to rethink his relationship with the vain electro-poof.

"Howard," Mrs Noir leant across to whisper in his ear.

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you and I go and get better acquainted, while these two are rowing?"

"I'm not sure that's appropriate Mrs Noir."

"Oh Howard, call me Meryl," she said, licking her tacky, painted lips and making her blue eyes flash a little. Howard felt her hand on his knee. He felt it rise higher up his thigh. He leapt to his feet.

"Er, where are the boys?" he shrieked. Anything to divert attention. He hadn't actually expected to see their seats empty.

"Oh god," gasped Vince. "Where the hell are they?!"

All the arguments were forgotten as the four adults searched the restaurant feverishly for the triplets.


	4. Chapter 4

"Curry powder," Jones said, throwing it down from the high kitchen shelves into a carrier-bag Richmond had found. "Mustard powder." He threw another bottle down.

"Careful," warned Richmond, "and be quiet Jones. We don't want the chef to hear us."

"Sorry," hissed Jones. "What else am I looking for?"Richmond consulted his book carefully, flicking forward a few pages "erm, black peppercorns, extra hot chilli sauce and horseradish sauce."

"Ooo, ooo. I can see chilli."

"Get it then," sighed Richmond. "Be as quick as you can. I'll see if there's anything down here." He peared through the various cupboards and was delighted to find paraffin, grease and floor polish, which he added to his bag of ingredients.

Richmond had planned this to perfection. He'd had his suspicions about the evil grandparents since they'd first met. They had, after all, made both his brothers cry, they'd upset Daddy Vince and Daddy Howard had looked a little angry too. But he'd waited. Richmond wasn't the kind of person to exact revenge for no reason. However, as the meal wore on, Richmond decided enough was enough and it was down to him to protect his family.

It had been remarkably easy to escape the meal. Richmond had dropped his fork on the floor and announced that he needed Vinward and Jones' help to retrieve it. Then they'd simply crawled away, Richmond and Jones had gone to the kitchen and Vinward had gone to the toilets to see if he could get any of the ingredients.

"Chilli sauce," Jones beamed, throwing it to his brother. "Oh, and horseradish."

"Great," Richmond almost smiled. "Are there any black peppercorns?"

"Yeah but there just outa my reach," Jones said, standing on his tiptoes and stretching full length for the pepper.

"Careful," Richmond warned. "Do you want me to get it?"

"No," Jones snapped, "I can do it."

"Are you sure? I _am _a bit taller than you."

Jones just glared at his brother.

"Only a little bit taller," Richmond clarified, "hardly anything in it really."

"S'better," Jones nodded, reaching for the pepper again. "Just a bit further," he whispered as his fingers brushed the side of the jar. He tried to pull it closer to him but only managed to push it around in a circle.

"If you could possibly go a bit faster Jones."

"Shut. Up. Richmond!" Jones growled, edging a few more millimetres along the shelf.

"Sorry."

"Aha! Got it!" And then there was a loud crashing sound and everything on the shelf including Jones fell to the ground.

"HEY!" shouted an angry chef, "what are you kids doing in here?"

"Run!" yelled Jones, grabbing his brother's hand and dragging him out of the kitchen and to the toilets to meet Vinward.

"Why are you covered in sauce?" Vinward asked, when he saw his almost identical brothers stood ahead of him.

"There was a fiasco in the kitchen," Richmond explained, "jolly lucky we didn't get hurt really."

"But I got all the ingredients Vinny," Jones beamed. "I bet you didn't get everything."

"I've got Shampoo, toothpaste, some shaving soap, face cream, hair remover, false teeth cleaner, dandruff Cure, Deodorant, lipstick and nail varnish," Vinward said looking at the pile of items in his arms as he tried to count them.

"That was everything," Richmond said, ticking off the items in his book as Vinward emptied them into the bag. "How did you managed that in a restaurant toilet?"

"They had one of those weird men there selling stuff. It was all there." Vinward beamed smugly at Jones and added, "and I didn't nearly kill myself in the process."

"I hate you," was the smallest boys response.

"Jealousy is not very nice, Jonesy."

--

Vince was the one who found the boys or more accurately the who the boys _let _find them. He saw them sat at the window pointing at the cars and saying the colour and Richmond was saying the make. As far as the adults were concerned, they'd been there the whole time.

That had pretty much signalled the end of the meal. They'd booked a taxi to go home and it was only as they were all clambering into the vehicle that Mr Noir mentioned his missing wife. At that moment, she rounded to corner with a fag in her hand. Her hair was a mess, her shirt wasn't buttoned properly and her make up was smeared all around her face.

"Sorry," she smirked, when she was close enough to whisper in Vince's ear. "I was, er, busy." Just then, the young waiter rounded the corner too. He looked a little worse for ware and more than a little startled.

Vince had to concentrate very hard not to throw up. He just got in the taxi and tried to take his mind off it.

"What's in the bag Richmond?" he asked.

"Food. The nice chef gave me a doggy bag."

"That was nice of him, I hope you said thank you."

The boys all nodded eagerly and Vince knew immediately that they were up to something.

As soon as the front door was open the boys had scampered up the stairs and scattered like wild animals.

"You three be careful," Vince warned. Though he suspected that whatever they were doing, it would be the people they were doing it to that would need to be careful.

--

Howard and Vince sat one side of the sitting room. Mr and Mrs Noir sat the other. Nothing was said. It was just a horrifically uncomfortable situation. Mrs Noir lit up a fag and, when Howard asked her kindly not to smoke in the house, she stabbed it out on the arm of the chair. Vince winced when he saw the black circle it had left but he said nothing. Every couple of minutes one of the boys, usually Jones or Vinward, would dash through the room carrying some kind of bottle or tin. It all seemed very secretive and mysterious, but not even that was mentioned. It was just silence and glaring.

Eventually, Vince spoke up. He wasn't sure why he chose this particular moment to ask this particular question but he guessed there'd never be the perfect moment so he just went with it.

"Why did you leave me in a jungle?" he asked. He spoke quietly, so quietly it was no more that a whisper but they'd all heard.

Mr and Mrs Noir just looked at each other, mumbling and muttering noises that didn't make sense.

"Well?" Vince pressed after what felt like a lifetime of senseless rambling.

"We couldn't cope," his mother said in a weird strangled tone. "We were young, you know that. I was barely sixteen and your dad was only eighteen. We tried darling, we did but you were so demanding and difficult. We couldn't look after you ourselves."

"An' you were a righ' Jessie," Mr Noir growled. "Like it wouldn' 'ave been 'ard enough raisin' a boy, you wen' an' acted like a bird the 'ole time. Cryin' when we made ya cut your 'air. It weren' worth the 'assle. I'm sure you understand, now you got 'em sprogs of yours."

"I understand they're hard work," Vince nodded. "I know that sometimes I just want a break but … that's what Howard's there for. For support. I could never leave them in a jungle."

"We didn't leave you to fend for yourself," his mother pointed out. "We gave you to Bryan."

"It's not about that though," Vince cried. "It's about…." he trailed off, his head bowed.

"What darling?" Mrs Noir encouraged, "what's it about?"

Vince looked up suddenly. His blue eyes were shining with almost thirty years worth of unshed tears and he asked the question that had burnt him forever. The question that had shaped his entire life. The reason he'd never been able to commit to anything or anyone in his life until recently.

"Why didn't you love me? Everyone I've ever met in my entire life has loved me, except you two."

It seemed the Noirs didn't have an answer to this one. Even Mr Noir just shrugged and somehow that was worse than concrete reasons. When it came down to it, they couldn't find a reason to hate Vince, the truth was he'd just interrupted with their parties and their lifestyle. Vince didn't want to cry. He'd spent most of his life trying not to care what his parents thought but it hadn't worked and as the first tear rolled down his cheek, he felt Howard pull him into a big hug.

Richmond watched his daddy Vince cry because of something his grandparents did and his mind was set.

"Have we got everything?" he asked firmly.

"Er, yeah, I think so," Vinward said, leaning over the caldron they'd stolen (or borrowed) from Naboo's cupboard.

"What about the shoe polish?"

"Yeah, it was in daddy's bottom draw with a horrible magazine with him with no clothes on."

The three boys moaned in protest at the thought.

"That's horrible," Richmond monotoned. "What about the cow ointment and the chicken medicine?"

"They were all in Naboo's 'Super Secret Storage'." Jones said, smiling.

Jones liked that cupboard. It was his favourite place in the whole house. Not even Howard and Vince knew where it was. In fact Naboo had had the sign changed so it read; Keep Out. And That Means You Richmond, Vinward And Jones. I Know You're The Only One's Who'll Find It. They didn't listen to the warning and nothing bad had happened yet. Well, apart from the time they burnt Bollo's eyebrows off (which is impressive on an ape) and the time they melted the entire Nabootique and the time they stopped the evil dandelion demon by pouring a gallon of weed killer on it.

Richmond peered into the coldren and almost smiled when he saw the thick brown liquid. It looks exactly like it does in the book. He said, showing his brothers some of Quentin Blake's best work. The boys nodded and Vinward asked,

"So what do we do now?"

* * *

The arguing had started up in the living room again. Mrs Noir was puffing away on her cigarette, whilst Mr Noir calmly tried to justify choosing partying over his son. Howard thought meeting the Noirs was like viewing what could have happened to Vince had he chosen a slightly different path. He watched as Mrs Noir sipped from a small bottle in her bag. It looked like a perfume bottle but Howard had no doubt it was full of vodka. The secret agent of the alcohol world, no taste, no smell. She took a drag of a new cigarette (no one had bothered telling her to put it out this time) before addressing him.

"You know darling, you spend a lot of time staring at me for someone who claims they don't wanna fuck me."

Richmond stopped in his tracks when he heard that. His face screwed up and he felt a bit queasy.

"Rich? Richie? What's up? What did that mean?" His brothers pestered him.

"Nothing," he sighed, sometimes it was a burden being the smartest. "It just means we need to get this in those cups."

It was perfect timing. They got to the kitchen just as Howard announced he'd make tea. He poured four cups. One in his mug, one in Vince's mug and two in the guest mugs. Richmond and Vinward waited for Howard to look away, which was exactly what he did when he asked how much sugar everyone wanted, and they switched the guest mugs for their own special liquid and giggled with glee as Howard took the mugs to their unsuspecting victims.

Mrs Noir took a sip first. She coughed a little and then took another sip.

"It's certainly got a kick to it," she admitted. "It's a bit wild. Like me, eh Howard?"

Howard just shuddered and handed the other mug to Mr Noir. He'd sat down again by now. He snatched the tea from Howard and downed it in one.

"You know," he said, "that's some of the nicest tea I've ever tasted."

"Herbal and green tea," Howard beamed proudly, "It's the Howard Moon speciality."

"Yeah. Whip me up another, will you?"

--

Four hours, several cups of tea, two very, very large grandparents, a hole in the ceiling and an emergency magic carpet trip later, Naboo was whispering memory loss incantations into the Noir's ears as he put them in a cab to go home. As usual, Vince and Howard had called on _him _to fix their mess.

"I don't know what happened," Howard was saying. "Maybe they were just monsters."

"Hmm," Vince nodded, looking at the triplets as they cheered and wooped in the corner. "I think maybe our little monsters got them."

The three boys stopped leaping about immediately and went back to doing what they do. Jones was bouncing about mixing beats in his head, Vinward studying varying dust bunnies and how to destroy them and Richmond read a book.

"What is that book Richie?"

"Richmond," the boy sighed and then answered, "Richmond's Marvellous Medicine."

And for the first time ever, Richmond grinned.


End file.
